


The Sorting Ceremony

by Irollforinitiative



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: A little ship, AU, Crossover, Hogwarts, Kid Fic, Kid John, Kid Sherlock, Sorting Ceremony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:08:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irollforinitiative/pseuds/Irollforinitiative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little Sherlock/Harry Potter crossover fic for a Sherlocksecretsanta gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sorting Ceremony

Sherlock Holmes stormed down the narrow hallway between compartments, still hurling insults down the corridor behind him. Finally spotting the empty compartment he put his trunks and cat in earlier, he slammed the door open and stepped in, turning to lean out of the door and shout down to train car to the only other compartment with an open door, 

"And don't you dare have the audacity to think I desire to be like you! I'd rather die!!" 

He turned and threw himself into the plush bench, deep in pout. John Watson was sitting on the bench across from him, apparently invisible to the genius. A blush spread across his young face and he stammered when he spoke, 

"S-Should I go?"

Sherlock looked up quickly and glared at the blonde boy, his own dark curls falling into his face from the sudden movement. 

"How did you get in here?" he demanded. 

John looked around, confused. "I've been here since right after the train left. I saw your things but I mean, the compartment was empty so…" he trailed off and his blush darkened under the cold gaze of the lanky boy across from him, "I can go." 

When John stood Sherlock seemed to have the spell broken and stood as well. 

"Wait, no. Please don't. I'm sorry." 

John smiled and nodded, sitting again when Sherlock did. He extended a hand. 

"Hello, I'm John Watson."

"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock took John's hand and shook it. "Are you a first year too?"

John nodded quickly. "God yes. Entirely overwhelmed. You?"

Sherlock sat back and nodded a little but raised an eyebrow. "First year, yes. Overwhelmed, hardly. It's not like any of the other students can do magic right now. We're still in the city. It's another ten minutes until I can even hold a book up magically."

John's eyes widened. "You can already do magic?"

Sherlock scoffed then stopped, his face sobering. "Oh…you're muggle born, aren't you." 

"Yeah. I never even knew this existed until someone came to the house to talk to my mum and dad when they threw the first letter out." He looked down at his hands. 

Sherlock didn't know why but he was overcome by the need to reach out and take John's hands. John looked up and Sherlock smiled warmly at him, something he'd never really done with honesty before. 

"It's fine. Don't be embarrassed. I can teach you some basics so no one has to know if you don't want them to." Sherlock removed his hand from John's and looked out the window as the countryside drew closer. 

John's eyes brightened. "You will? Oh that'd be brilliant!"

"And don't let anyone give you shit about being muggle born. I come from a pure blood family and most of them can't tell their arse from a magical vortex." 

"What?" John giggled. 

Sherlock giggled too, infected by John's mirth. "Most of them are rich and lazy and those that aren't are so ambitious they forget how to live. My brother is turning into the latter." 

John frowned. "Was he who you were shouting at?" 

"Yeah. He's a sixth year and in Slytherin. He keeps telling me to get some ambition and fast or else I won't get in Slytherin. Says I'll besmirch the family name if I get put somewhere like Ravenclaw. Of course he's besmirching the family name every Saturday with that Hufflepuff boy but I mention that once and he hexes me so I can't taste sweet things for a month." Sherlock rolled his eyes and stretched out his already impossibly long legs, resting his ankles on the bench next to John. 

"That sounds…" John shrugged. "So do you want to be in Slytherin?" 

Sherlock shook his head. "No. I don't care about winning or success. I want to learn things. I…I'd really like to be in Ravenclaw. How about you?"

John blushed and looked down again. "I…I don't know much about them, actually. But from what I've read I suppose Hufflepuff would be okay." 

Sherlock frowned and watched John's face. "You're lying. Where do you truly want to be." 

"How did you know that?" 

"I watched your face and deduced it. Simple enough. Where do you truly want to be?"

"I…" John sighed and looked out the window, "I'd like to be in Gryffandor."

"And why do you not believe that to be possible?" Sherlock had set his feet down and was leaning forward to examine John as he spoke. 

"I'm no hero. I can hardly protect myself." 

Sherlock furrowed his brow as they crested a hill and were greeted by beautiful countryside outside of the window. He smiled a little. "I can help with that. I'm going to teach you a basic protective spell. Get your wand." he pulled his own wand out. 

It was a jet black and gnarled wand of medium length. On it's own it would be sinister but in Sherlock's thin hand it somehow looked graceful. John dug through his bag and pulled out a box. He opened it and pulled out his own wand. It was long and thin. It looked like the paragon of grace and elegance with a smooth auburn finish. Sherlock giggled and it made John frown. 

"What?" he held his wand close. 

Sherlock shook his head. "It's just…usually when you see someone's wand it makes sense. But that looks nothing like you."

John blushed. "So?"

"So it means you're going to have to grow into it." 

John rolled his eyes. "Are you going to teach me the spell or am I going to have to give you a black eye?" 

"Okay, okay, soldier. It's a simple spell just a smooth flick and you say protego." As Sherlock did so a glassy shield shot out of his wand and spread out so it stretched from his head to his foot. 

John tried not to bristle at the nickname and held up his own wand with a deep breath. He flicked his wand and recited the word and nothing happened. Sherlock started laughing again. "Stop it!" John's voice broke as he shouted. 

Sherlock forced down his giggles and smiled. "Sorry. It's…it's the flick. It needs to be more smooth. Less soldier more…genius." 

"So less me more you?" John rolled his eyes. 

"Exactly."

John tried again, this time smoothing his movements. It wasn't perfect, but the charm worked. John grinned and lost it immediately when he dropped his wand, shocked at how it felt to perform a spell. "I did it!" 

"Good job, solider."

John rolled his eyes again. "How did you know how to do that so well?"

"You were right when you attributed the idea of genius to me. I could very well test out of the first three years of classes due to my independent studies. Mummy insists I don't graduate early, though. We've only had one wizard in our family go bad and he graduated early."

"Go bad?"

Sherlock's eyes darkened. "Went evil. Started killing people and the like. People think all Slytherins are like that but…my family is good." 

"And you're good." John smiled gently. 

Sherlock giggled. "I'm not a Slytherin yet." 

"One of the things I read said you end up being placed where you should be. So worrying won't do you a lick of good, will it?" 

"No, I suppose not." Sherlock smiled and stood, "I'm going to go buy us snacks." 

Before John could protest Sherlock buying for both of them, the gangly boy had galloped down the corridor. John sat back and tried to process the last span of time. It seemed he'd gone and made himself a friend. John couldn't help but smile. After some issues getting to the platform (it was a common issue for children with muggle parents), he had been scared to leave. The last thing his father had done was kneel close and tell him, "You'll make friends, Johnny. You're the best person I've ever met. And I want to be you when I grow up. Okay? So go be you and they will love you." 

And it seems they did. John giggled when Sherlock returned suddenly, arms full of sweets. After the initial lessons about Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Bot's actually being every flavor, both boys contented themselves with stuffing themselves to busting with sweets and giggling over silly stories from childhood. John met Sherlock's cat, Victor, and Sherlock cooed over John's owl, Mary. Finally the time came for them to put on their robes as the train began to slow and John realized something he didn't like. 

"We're not going to be in the same house, are we?" his voice was small. 

Sherlock frowned. "There is a chance I suppose. But no, probably not." 

"So we won't see each other anymore after today. Not really. Not outside of classes or the like." John looked down at his wand that was in his hand. 

"No." Sherlock said, firmly. It made John look up. 

"What?"

"I shan't repeat myself. You heard me. I am not going to stop being your friend just because we're in different houses. I…I don't make friends easily or, at all really. And if after this short train ride you would call me a friend I refuse to allow something superficial like being sorted differently change that."

John grinned. "Okay. Yeah. I agree. And I don't know how you don't have friends. I think you're brilliant." 

Sherlock smiled at John and John blushed a little. Suddenly the train stopped and both boys went pale. Sherlock nodded and swallowed. 

"Here we go. Leave everything on the train." 

John nodded and followed him off the train. They shuffled close to a loud and brash man shouting for first years. His mass of curling hair and beard were heavily peppered with grey but the man was still an imposing figure. Shortly they found themselves on boats crossing the Black Lake and being bombarded by the sight of Hogwarts in all of it's majesty. Sherlock leaned close to John and whispered, 

"If you look you can see the seams where new stone meets old from where the rebuilt after the Second Battle of Hogwarts just ten years ago. They had the school rebuilt and up again in a year." 

John gaped. "Wow. I read about that but…what happened?"

"A v'ry bad man did some v'ry bad things." a gruff voice sounded from next to them. 

John looked up at the beast of a man called Hagrid and swallowed. "Oh…were you t-there?"

"I was. An I can tell ye one thing, this castle is the safest place on Earth." He winked as John suddenly looked less worried. 

Suddenly the boats were landing and the students were being swept up the stairs. As they waited Sherlock leaned close to John again and whispered, "The Assistant Headmaster should come for us. He almost died in the battle too. They say he got his throat ripped out by a sake and now he wears these high collars to hide that he breathes through magic." 

John's eyes were the size of saucers when a man with stringy black hair shot with grey and a very high collar walked up to them. When he spoke his voice was deep and hoarse. Each breath seemed to whistle like it was being taken in through a long tube. 

"You names will be called and the Sorting Hat will be placed on your head. After you are sorted into your house, go and sit with them and wait for the rest of the first years to be sorted so that the feast may begin. Questions…good." the Assistant Headmaster turned on his heel and threw open the doors to the Great Hall. 

Sherlock smiled but couldn't help but gape a little as John walked next to him, mouth open wide. John reached out and held the cuff of Sherlock's robe as they filed into the front of the hall and were greeted by a very old and very serious looking woman who introduced herself as Headmaster. Neither boy heard any of the words of her speech, instead both looked around wildly, standing close to one another. Suddenly the time for names arrived and Sherlock found that his name was being called by the Assistant Headmaster. He strode forward and sat on the stool, catching a glimpse of Mycroft sitting at the Slytherin table looking worried. And then it went dark as the large hat was set on his head and slipped over his eyes. A small voice spoke into Sherlock's ear. 

"Well look what we have here, another Holmes." 

Sherlock jumped a little. "Y..yes I am." he said quietly. 

"Should I put you in Slytherin with the rest of them?"

"Yes, please."

"Oh, tut tut. That's not what you want, is it." 

"No but it's what my family wants."

"You wouldn’t fit there. Not enough guile for Slytherin. Not the selflessness for Gryffandor. Not nearly enough mirth for Hufflepuff. That just leaves one thing. One thing you want."

"Oh God yes. I want to be a Ravenclaw."

"Well then…RAVENCLAW!" the hat shouted and was removed from his head. As the Ravenclaw table errupted in cheers and Sherlock went to them, beaming, he realized even Mycroft was smiling a little. 

Sherlock's joy didn't last long because soon John's name was called. Sherlock crossed his fingers and held his breath as he watched John approach the bench. John sat and shook a little as everything went dark under the hat. John felt it was only proper to speak first since this was allegedly a talking hat, and did so. 

"H-hello?"

The hat chuckled softly. "Hello there little muggle born. I hear what you're chanting in your head. 'Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw'. But you won't do well there."

"But that's where my friend is."

"So? You will still have him in your life, thought not always as a friend."

"What?" John frowned and his shaking stopped.

"Something for another day. Now, I need you to trust me."

"Okay."

"Thank you. Because you will do best in…GRYFFANDOR!!"

Sherlock didn't hear anything even though he saw John's lips moving. He began to wonder what spells were at work on the hat for that to be true when suddenly it shouted. Sherlock felt his stomach sink but when the hat was removed he saw the grin on John's face and he couldn't help but mimic it as he clapped along with the Gryffandor table while John sat. 

The rest of the sorting went smoothly. Soon they were eating and then suddenly they were being drug off to their respective common rooms. Neither boy got to see each other again in the chaos and John didn't really get much of a chance to think until he was sitting in a squishy chair by a roaring fire. As the common room slowly cleared out he frowned. He had his mobile, but he didn't know if wizards had mobiles. Even so he didn't have Sherlock's number. Sure they were friends but it was their first night of school and yet here he was sitting alone in his new home as everyone else went to bed. When the room was completely empty he heard a commotion outside of the portrait of the Fat Lady. Turning John saw Sherlock slip through the entrance. He jumped up. 

"Sherlock! How did you get in?" 

Sherlock smiled and tossed himself onto a sofa. "Oh simple enough. Just a password. Chosen by the painting therefore easy to deduce. Ruffled her feathers that I was able to but…I got in." he grinned cheekily. 

John smiled and sat by Sherlock's feet. "That's brilliant. So you can visit whenever you want?"

"Yes. And so can you. Ravenclaws have a beautiful library in our common room. Just have to answer a riddle to get in. You're smart enough to pull it off." 

John nodded and pulled his feet up onto the sofa with Sherlock's. "I like it. We can still visit each other." 

"We will and are." 

Morning found both boys asleep on the sofa by the fire, grinning widely as they dreamed.


End file.
